


White Collar: Hero of the Day

by Phoenix_crysg1



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix_crysg1/pseuds/Phoenix_crysg1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is based of art work by <a href="http://kanarek13.livejournal.com">Kanarek13</a> that can be found: <a href="http://kanarek13.livejournal.com/160321.html">Here</a>.  I'm not all that skilled at the whole h/c genera so I figured a challenge was in order and Kanarek13 delivered one.  Peter is difficult to work with on the whole 'comfort' scene, he's not big into admitting when Neal gives him a scare.  ;)  Neal wakes in the hospital a little disoriented, luckily Peter is there to help him put the pieces back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Collar: Hero of the Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kanarek13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanarek13/gifts).



Neal surfaced to the conscious world and instantly regretted doing so as his body informed him that he had done something monumentally stupid. Having trouble with his memory Neal wasn’t exactly sure what he’d done but he remembered there being a lot of noise and general chaos involved. Realizing that whatever had happened might not actually be over Neal forced his eyes open to see if he was at least somewhere safe. The blank white ceiling didn’t do much to orient or reassure Neal, but when he turned his head to the side he was able to relax. Peter was sitting in a chair next to the hospital bed watching him attentively. Seeing that Neal was awake Peter smiled at him and Neal automatically smiled back.

“Peter.” Neal tested out his voice finding it scratchy. 

“Neal.” Peter greeted warmly. "You really with me this time or are you going to sing some more?”

“No singing.” Neal weld his eyes shut against the start of a headache. “Was I singing?”

“You were.” Peter confirmed. “You do not react well to anesthesia.”

“Good to know.” 

Still somewhat out of it Neal didn’t make the connection between Peter’s comment on anesthesia and the idea that he must have been through some sort of surgery. Taking a deep breath Neal tried to sit up and was rewarded by a sharp pain in his ribs. Making another attempt at getting up Neal’s attention was drawn to how heavy his left arm was. Opening his eyes again he looked at the white plaster cast that encased his forearm from the elbow to his wrist that was protecting the bones that had just been surgically secured back together again. Neal didn’t remember yet how he’d broken his arm but he was able to vividly recall the sickening cracking sound it had made when it happened. Making a noise of frustration Neal laid back, giving up on moving. 

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked concerned.

“Everything hurts.” Neal complained as he tried to move again. “What happened? I feel like I was hit by a bus.”

“It was a car.”

“No way,” Neal shook his head in denial “at the very least it must have been a truck.”

“Honda Civic….a blue one.” 

“Four door?” Neal asked hopefully.

Peter just shook his head slightly.

“That’s just…embarrassing.”

“If it makes you feel any better you put an impressive dent in the hood.”

“It does.” Neal chuckled weakly as he contemplated going back to sleep.

Neal relaxed back against the pillow and closed his eyes again. He smiled as Peter gently put his hand on his shoulder to assure him that he hadn’t passed out again. Neal was about to ask if it would be alright if he slept or if he need to keep awake when a wash of adrenaline soaked his system and slammed his heart against his ribs. He had suddenly recalled the split second before impacting with the bright blue hood of the car. Everything about that second flooded back to him, the screeching of tires, Peter crying out his name sharply in a mixture of warning and panic, a moment where he realized that he might actually be killed but already being committed to what he’d done as he braced against what was to come. 

There was something else though, something he couldn’t quite remember but he felt was the key detail. Unable to gain control of the nightmarish vision of breaking bone, hot pavement, and a terrified female voice Neal started to fight to sit up again. Seeing Neal starting to panic Peter got to his feet and put his hand down high on Neal’s chest to try and help calm him and gently keep him down so that he didn’t aggravate his two broken ribs. The confusion and vague memories were quickly turning to panic. 

“Peter…” Neal panted.

“Easy, Neal. Everything is okay, just relax.”

Neal nodded and did his best to follow Peter’s advice. Reaching up with his good hand Neal took a hold of Peter’s hand and squeezed it. Taking a few deep breaths Neal tried to get his racing heart under control. Peter waited patiently helping Neal calm simply by being calm himself. The memories were still jumbled but Peter’s honest expression that everything was okay allowed Neal to accept the idea that despite some injury things had worked out in the end. 

“Thank you.” Neal said as he released Peter’s hand.

“Remembering what happened?” 

“I stepped out into the street…” Neal tried to peace together his broken memory. 

“Do you remember why?”

“No…wait…I was holding someone when the car hit me.”

“Samantha, five years old, her mother had been distracted by the older brother for just second. Enough time for her to step off the curb into traffic.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s just fine, thanks to you.” Peter nodded. “You had no hope of pulling her out of the way in time so I’m guessing your plan was to get hit by the car yourself to shield her. Very brave, Neal.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say ‘brave’ instead of ‘stupid’.”

“You saved a little girl, Neal. You did good.” 

Neal smiled proudly before wincing in pain. His arm didn’t bother him as much as the ribs. Looking concerned Peter hovered, unsure how to help.

“Do you want me to call the nurse for some pain medication?” Peter asked sympathetically. 

“No, I’m okay…I don’t want to end up singing again.”

Peter chuckled and sat back down in the chair next to the bed. Neal looked around the hospital room starting to feel cooped up and bored already. Neal reached up and pulled his hand through his hair and found a few small pieces of asphalt that he picked out.

“That reminds me,” Peter said “I got something for you while you were in surgery.”

Peter bent down and opened up a round box that was on the floor next to his chair. He lifted up a new black felt fedora with a gray band and handed it to Neal. 

“This is beautiful,” Neal admired the hat “Elizabeth picked this out didn’t she?”

“She did.” Peter admitted. “Your hat didn’t make it, I thought this might help with the grieving process.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

Neal flipped the hat over in a practiced move and put it on, tugging the brim to tip it forward before looking up at Peter with a bright smile.

“Feel better?”

“Much.” Neal nodded.

“So you’re ready to get back to work?” Peter teased. 

“I might need a day off.”

“Take two…you’ve earned it.”


End file.
